


Things You Said

by Luciferine



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Compliant Only to the First Game, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Kissing, Written Prior to Sequel Release, based on a tumblr prompt list, each drabble is different so the tags are all over the place really, ellie is nearly 18 or over for that particular drabble but tagged to be safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6307999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferine/pseuds/Luciferine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles revolving around Joel, Ellie, and words shared between them. Based on the 'Things You Said' prompt collection on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. when you were drunk

**Author's Note:**

> AN: For the Anon on Tumblr. Some tipsy fluff. And I managed to more or less stick to my 1k limit, incredible. Hope you like it! The prompt was #11: 'Things you said when you were drunk'.

"Why don't you drink?" she asks. She _knows_ he isn't drunk, because he's steady-solid-straight where she's _not_ , swaying on her feet and giggling when she lands against him.

Joel snorts softly. "How much did you _have_?" he mutters. "You _know_ I do, you stole half my goddamn beer when I wasn't lookin'."

Oh. Yeah, she might've done that. Vague, hazy-warm memories of Joel turning his head and Tommy stifling laughter. She could've just had her own -Tommy and Maria wouldn't have minded- but Joel's tastes better. And _maybe_ he knows it, because his eyes are soft and kinda laughing, not mad at all.

"Losin' your touch, huh?" she drawls. He gets this offended look on his face like she's insulted him _deeply._ There's a soft tug at her ponytail. She cranes her head all the way back to glare at him upside down. It hurts her eyes, though, and she can't keep it up long enough to really make a point. " _Rude_ ," she huffs, righting her head and grimacing when the movement makes her vision go blurry.

He chuckles. "Yeah, I know. I'm awful."

"The actual _worst_." She sighs, a long drawn-out sound. She fixes him with a serious look that doesn't work, because he's smiling that way he does when he wants to laugh but won't. "But I still like you."

"Much obliged," he teases, pulling her hand so she bumps against his side. She huffs, nuzzles against his shirt because it's _soft_ and he's _warm_ and he smells really, really good. He throws an arm around her, pulling her right up against him. It's kinda cold, and she's weirdly warm, almost like she's sick, and it just makes sense to snuggle up to him a little more.

She wishes they were home and not _walking_ home; this would be a lot more fun with more blankets and more _him_.

" _Ellie_ ," Joel warns, only it's kinda choked and oh fuck did she say that out loud?

She shrugs, turns her face into his shirt so she doesn't have to look at him."You're cozier than your jacket." His hand tightens on her arm, not enough to hurt but enough to make her insides flip-flop like crazy, and she smiles against his soft, worn flannel.

Joel sighs, kinda sad but kinda not, at the same time. "What am I gonna do with you?" He tugs on her hair again, lets his arm fall to wrap around her.

She shrugs, pulling away a little to look up at him. He's got a weird faraway look on his face. She doesn't like it. "I dunno."

"That makes two of us." He rubs his face with his free hand, and she just _knows_ he's thinking about stuff he shouldn't be thinking about. Dumb shit that's gonna leave him quiet and stone-faced and she _definitely_ doesn't want that. Fuck, she gets so lonely when he's like that…

"You're kinda dumb sometimes, y'know that?" she says.

And it works, _it works_ , he cracks a smile, rolls his eyes at her. "You can do better than that, kid." And oh, that is _so_ a challenge.

"Your fucking _face_ is dumb." She grins, blindingly big, and crows out a laugh like she's cracked the joke of the fucking _century_.

"Thought you liked my face?" he rumbles. Oh. Oh _no_.

"Who told you that?" she asks, barely louder than a whisper.

He laughs, even though it isn't _funny_ and her stomach is twisting and _why the hell is he laughing?_ He watches her for a long moment, face softening into a smile. "You did." _Bullshit._

"Did _not_." She would remember that. Right? "'Less you… read my mind, or something. Fuck. Can you _do_ that?" Jesus, that would be bad. That would be… incredibly bad, on so many levels. _Joel would never speak to her again_ levels of bad. He'd say _"Ellie"_ in that disappointed voice and she'd be lonely for the rest of her life.

He snorts, and she can sorta breathe again when she sees he's not mad. "Sure, kid. You got me; I'm psychic. Wanna have your fortune told?"

It takes her a moment or two to figure out he's screwing with her, and another to fix him with a glare. "You're making fun of me," she whines.

"Yeah, kinda."

" _Mean."_ But mean is good, making fun of her is good, so she's happy. "What _ever_ , you like my face. Like, a _lot_." She spreads her arms wide, just to make sure he gets it. " _This_ much."

"Sure," Joel says, and she can see all the lines around his eyes when he smiles like that.

"I _know_." She beams. "Ask me how I _know_ , Joel."

"Fine. How d'you know?"

She lowers her voice like she's telling some huge secret, taps against his chest with her index finger. "You pulled my ponytail. Means you _like_ me."

He hums. "It's pigtails, actually." She blinks at him, confused. "Boys'd pull girls' pigtails, if they liked 'em."

She frowns, considering. "Oh. Okay, I can do that. You gotta help me, though. 'M not good with braids." Sometimes, if she asks real nice, he'll help her with her hair. She thinks braids would take a while, and she'd like being close to him like that.

"Where'd you even learn that?" He frowns, eyeing the houses they pass suspiciously. "Nobody's been givin' you trouble, right?" His hand tightens on her again. She makes a pleased little sound and tries to edge closer, but all she does is tangle her feet up so he has to stop and right her.

Ellie frowns up at him. "Read it in a book. _Annie_ of… something. She had red hair?"

" _Anne of Green Gables,"_ Joel finishes for her, relaxing his hand.

"Sounds right," Ellie hums. "The boy who pulled her pigtails _married_ her, y'know."

"That so?" She _knows_ he knows that; she must've read it to him because she _always_ reads to him. But maybe he forgot?

"Yeah. Had lots of babies, too. Kinda boring. Liked her better when she was younger, all ad- adven…" She frowns, shakes her head. "All _cool_."

Joel hums in response, steers her away from a hole in the ground. "Sounds like a pretty shitty deal."

"I thought so." She sighs, feels the air leave her lungs and float up into the sky. It's a pretty night, clear and starry. "But I think it's like… all about the _person_ , y'know?"

"How d'you mean?"

"You wouldn't make me boring."

He's quiet for a long time. "No, reckon I wouldn't."

"You'd come with me." It's not really a question, but she holds her breath waiting for his answer just the same.

"Somebody's gotta watch your back while you go adventurin'."

She reaches for his hand, and he doesn't pull away. "Does it still count if I don't have pigtails?"

Joel laughs, quiet so that only she can hear. "Yeah, kid. It counts."

"Good."


	2. that i wish you hadn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the weight gets to be a little too much. It's hard on them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: For the Anon on Tumblr. The prompt was: ‘things you said that I wish you hadn’t.’

“You’re lettin’ in the rain.”

Ellie doesn’t respond, just sits there with her hand stretched out the window, catching raindrops and staring into the dense green outside. Joel doesn’t push; it’s not like he was expecting an answer to begin with. She’s miles away, his girl, somewhere he can’t reach. 

She’s got the sleeves of her shirt rucked up, skin paler than usual from the damp and the cold so that her red of her scar pops. She presses her thumb against it, hard enough to indent the skin, and Joel’s reaching from the couch and pulling her hand away before he’s even given it any thought. 

“Don’t do that,” he mutters. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” But she doesn’t pull her hand away, doesn’t make any fuss when he lowers it back to her side. She smiles, a too-little, twisted-up thing that doesn’t sit right. “It’s not like I can infect myself.” She wraps her arm loosely around herself, hiding the bite from him. “Or you. I think we’ve tested that thoroughly enough by now.” She smirks, a faded copy of the real thing. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth.  

“Ellie.” 

The smirk fades and she turns away from him, shoulders slumping as she tilts her head up at the darkening sky. Her fingers clench and unclench against the windowsill. It’s only a little better than clawing at herself, but he bites his tongue. He wouldn’t put it past her to climb out into the storm if he pushes her too much.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks, and even after all this time the words feel awkward and bulky on his tongue. They must sound it too, because Ellie levels him with an unimpressed look before turning away again. 

“Listen, if I did somethin’…” It’s not like her to turn sullen and silent when he’s pissed her off -their arguments are short and loud as a general rule- but he’ll do or say whatever she wants if it snaps her out of this. 

“It’s not you.” She laughs, a little to sad to be genuine. “Fuck, when is it _ever_ you?”

He frowns. “Then what the hell is goin’ on? You’ve been off all day.”

“You’ll get mad.”  

“I won’t.” 

“Joel…”  But there’s this _longing_ to her voice, and he just can’t drop it once he’s heard that. 

“Go _dammit,_ girl-”

“I should’ve died,” Ellie says, quiet enough that for a moment the pounding of the rain drowns her out. But he still hears, and the rest of his words die in his throat.

“What?” he chokes out, and it’s a little too loud and a little too harsh but _goddamit_ , he thinks he’s allowed that much. _What the hell?_  

“This is why I didn’t want to talk about it,” she mutters. “I knew you’d get angry.” But he knows her damn well, knows she wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t want to, unless it was eating at her something awful. 

“I ain’t angry,” he mutters, and can’t find the words for much more than that. He knows it’s about the Fireflies, but it’s been long enough since their last conversation on it that he’s forgotten how deep her easy acceptance of death can cut him. And Christ, he’s never heard her put it quite like that before. 

“I didn’t say I wanted to, I said I should’ve,” she says, still way too calm for someone who just dropped a bomb like that. 

He scoffs. “There’s a difference?” 

The look she gives him is startling in its clarity. “I’m still here, aren’t I?” And Lord, his expression must be something, because she looks down, shamefaced the second the words leave her mouth. “I know you wouldn’t let me-”

“Damned straight,” he growls, and for a second she looks at him like… Christ, he doesn’t know. Too much emotion for a face that young. 

“Let me finish, idiot.” He stays quiet, grudgingly. “I don’t want to die, okay? Even if I didn’t know you’d drag me back kicking and screaming from the Fireflies or who-the-fuck-ever, I still wouldn’t try. Fuck, you think I’d _do_ that to you?”

His panic eases, and he heaves a sigh. It’s nothing he doesn’t know, but hell if it doesn’t scare him half to death every time. “Need more reason to live than just me, kid.” 

“ _You_ don’t.” He flinches. “Something to fight for, right?” She laughs. “Shit. Sometimes that’s all I’ve got. Everything else is fucked, but you’re here, and that makes it okay.” 

There’s not enough words in the world for him to argue with her over that. “The vaccine never woulda worked,” he says instead, a gentle reminder. He _knows_ it, knows that Ellie’s life would’ve been wasted, he just wishes he could make her believe it. 

“Probably not,” she admits. “But maybe it would’ve. I’ve got to live with that _maybe_ for the rest of my life.” She smiles at him, small and sad. “How many times have we had this exact conversation, since we got here? Between the nightmares, and people still talking about the Fireflies like they exist, about the _cure?”_

“Who was it this time?” he asks, doing his best not to be sick at the very idea of her… _Christ._ It has to have been something she heard; he always knows when she had nightmares, they sleep in the same _bed_ for god’s sake, and last night was surprisingly quiet. 

“Some kids at the playground, playing Fireflies. Maria tried to distract me when we passed, but I heard.” She laughs a little. “Maybe they want to grow up and find a cure.”

He grimaces. “They’re just kids, Ellie. They’ll forget about it by dinnertime.” Besides, he can’t imagine any parent letting their child leave Jackson’s safety to try their luck on the outside. If the Fireflies _are_ still kicking, they’re not getting any recruits from here. 

“I know,” she assures him. “But it’s always gonna be something. People will remember, reminisce about the good old days. They’ll still die hoping for a cure.” She shrugs. “I should’ve died that day, but I didn’t, and I can’t fix it because I don’t _want_ to die, and you _can’t_ die. It’s… it’s fucking weird, and today it’s just getting to me, okay? It’ll pass.” 

He stays quiet, because there’s no way to respond to that. She stares at him for a long moment, expression softening as she takes him in. She pulls the window closed, latching it with a quiet click. She sinks beside him onto the couch, going easily when he pulls her closer. She smells like rain and forest and _Ellie_ , and that more than anything reassures him that she’s here, she’s alive. Not alright, not really, but alive.

“Blame me, if you gotta blame somebody. I made the decision for you.” It’s the same song and dance, as familiar as the feel of her in his arms. 

“Yeah, and I never even tried to make it right.” She smiles again, a little less sad now. “Thanks, though.” She presses her mouth against his, just for a moment, more for comfort than anything else. He kisses her back, just gentle pressure, not doing much more than breathing each other in. It seems to anchor something inside of her, and she pulls away with a thoughtful look on her face.

“This would’ve been so much easier if I never met you,” she sighs, resting her head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” And he is, for so many things that he can’t even put into words, let alone make up for. “Christ, Ellie. I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.” She grabs his hand, and doesn’t let go until long after the rain has stopped.  


	3. when you thought i was asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie tries, but she can't always keep Joel out of his own head. Doesn't make it hurt any less, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: It's time for my annual birthday update! In which I break tradition every year and give you guys a present instead. As requested by a few of you, here's 'things you said when you thought I was asleep.'

Ellie wakes to the low, deep hum of voices and the warm crackling of the fireplace. She's not entirely sure where she is; there was a time when that would be enough to make her throat close and her chest constrict, but she's wrapped in something soft and comfortable and she can hear Joel's voice alongside his brother's, so she breathes easier. But something lingers in the back of her mind, restless and jittery.

Everything is cast in shadows, flickering from the firelight, and she can vaguely make out Tommy's silhouette in the corner of the room. In the almost-dark, he looks exhausted, head lowered. When he shifts, sighing, she quickly shuts her eyes again.

"I was right, y'know." Joel laughs, bitter and short. The urge to turn and look wells up in her, but her legs are in his lap and he'll know if she moves. "She woulda been better off if I left her with you." The room's warmth leeches out all out once, and Ellie doesn't need to pretend to be still as his words knock the wind out of her.

Tommy scoffs, an exasperated sound. Ellie gets the sense that she woke up in the middle of a much, much longer conversation "She woulda been dead if you left her with me. I couldn't've done what you did. Breakin' her out like that. Hell, might be I woulda walked right out without tryin'." There's a long, heavy silence. Ellie's heart thrums in her throat, her whole body running cold with creeping fear.

Joel lets out a low, angry sound. Not at Tommy, she knows, but at the thought of her dying. It's a familiar sound, and it calms her slightly, even if she still has no idea what the fuck is going on. "You couldn't leave a little girl to die, Tommy. I know you."

"For the cure? Jesus, Joel. I don't know. Now that I know her, ain't no way in hell I'd let them have her, but back then?" The sound of a chair scraping the floor. Heavy footsteps. "Point is, she's here 'cause of you. That's somethin'."

"Then I shoulda left her here after it was finished, shoulda let you and Maria take her."

"Yeah, 'cause that went over _real_ well when Maria tried it, huh?"

A strong, warm pressure on her calf. Joel's hand. He's not shaking, not anything so obvious as that, but the tension in his body is so clear that she can picture him perfectly, still and unreadable as stone. But he's holding her close, that's gotta mean something.

Heavy footsteps hit the hardwood floor in a constant rhythm; Tommy pacing, she guesses. "Don't think she wouldn't come right after you, big brother. The second you walked out that gate, she'd be after you raisin' all sorts of hell."

Joel's cold silence is answer enough, and Tommy hums knowingly. "Knew I shoulda kept the booze away. You get low when you drink, brother."

"It ain't the goddamn whiskey," Joel snaps, too loudly for the hush of the room around them. There's a long beat of horrified silence where Ellie can feel both their eyes on her, and it's difficult not to fidget under the scrutiny. Somehow, she manages, feels Joel's deep sigh of relief before she hears it. "I ain't drunk," he repeats quietly.

Tommy stays carefully quiet for a moment. Ellie feels Joel shift under her, fingers tapping out a careful, uneasy rhythm against her leg. If she wasn't on him, she knows he would've already left the room.

"You're _somethin_ '," Tommy says finally, and Ellie would put an end to the whole thing if she wasn't so sure he was right. "Figured you'd stopped botherin' with all that by now. What changed?"

Ellie runs through all the usual suspects, but she comes up empty. The anniversary of the Outbreak is a long way off, so is Sarah's birthday. Sometimes Joel just gets sullen and silent for a few days, maybe a week, but she's _always_ had a sense for those things. She thought he was fine. _What the hell did I miss?_

The heavy clink of a glass being moved. Ellie hopes it's empty. Tommy wasn't wrong; Joel doesn't make a habit of drinking in excess and there's a _reason_ for it. "Heard some kids talkin'," Joel mutters.

She can hear the gears turning in Tommy's head from across the room. "'Bout Ellie?" he asks, cautious.

Joel grunts in agreement. Ellie's stomach twists, dread settling over her. The urge to move or talk or _something_ bites at her, as persistent as an itch. She bites her lip hard, a distraction.

She hears Tommy shift, feels the air in the room change, grow heavy. "Somethin' I should know about?" he asks.

Joel grunts. "Don't like the way they look at her, brother. The way they talk about her."

_Oh._ She doesn't spend much time around the handful of teenagers in Jackson, but she's caught enough curious glances and judgmental looks to have a decent idea of what they think of her. She figures it's not pretty. Whatever; it's not like she gives a fuck what they think. She thought Joel knew, though- why is he so upset?

Tommy recovers from his brief, shocked silence. "She's a pretty girl, Joel. Ain't like there's a whole lotta teenagers 'round here to begin with. Reckon they've all had a crush on her for a coupla minutes." Tommy scoffs. "Christ, don't tell me you're sulkin' 'cause you're _jealous_. You gotta know they wouldn't come near her with you around."

_What?_ She's not sure whether to laugh or gag at how wrong he is. The idea of people - _strangers-_ looking at her like that is enough to twist her stomach. She'd rather be labelled a freak and hated, given the choice between the two.

"You're a goddamn idiot, y'know that?" Joel mutters, with none of the warmth the insult usually holds for his brother. Ellie figures he's having the same thought. "Maybe they're right. Hell if I know." He shifts, Ellie's been this close to him enough times to know it's a shrug. "The hell is she doin' around somebody like me?"

Ellie shuts her eyes tightly. _Joel..._ Her heart sticks uncomfortably in her throat. She doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to know he thinks she'd be better off, no matter how many times she tries to tell him otherwise.

Tommy sighs, a sad, pitying sound. "Joel-"

"Drop it, Tommy," Joel growls, and Ellie isn't sure that he wouldn't be getting up in his brother's face if she wasn't on top of him.

A moment of quiet stretches tensely between the brothers. Tommy breaks it with a tired sigh. "Right. I'll leave you to it. It's too damned late and I'm too damned tired to have it out with you." Joel says nothing, but his hand is heavy and tense on Ellie's leg. Tommy huffs, a bemused sound. "Stay the night, sleep it off. We can talk in the mornin', if you wanna."

Joel scoffs, and Ellie tucks her face against the cushion to hide her wince. Tommy tries, harder than she thinks he has any duty to, but when Joel's like this it isn't any use.

"Or not. Your call," Tommy says. There's an awkward pause, and Ellie _knows_ Joel should say something, but he doesn't, and the moment ends. Tommy mutters a gruff goodnight, footsteps fading as he exits.

"Damn," Joel sighs once they're alone. Leaving him to his thoughts seems like the _worst_ possible idea right now, so she starts to shift slowly, like she's shaking off sleep, blanket slipping off her shoulders as she moves.

"Hi." She smiles, not convincingly enough. Even in the low light she can see the way his expression shifts to concern.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," she murmurs. "Just a bad dream." She stretches out against him, breathes in the warmth of his skin, of the dying fire. He readjusts the blanket to cover her, and his hand finds its way to her hair, stroking gently. "I'm glad you're here."

The hand in her hair stills for a moment, tightening just slightly. "Go back to sleep," he says, quietly enough she can't quite read the emotion behind the words. "I ain't goin' nowhere."

He's not looking at her when he says it, it's too dark besides, but his other hand finds its way to her hip, and there's more reassurance in the squeeze of his fingers than in anything she could find in his expression.

"Everything okay?" Ellie asks quietly, resting her hand on his and squeezing gently. Part of her wants to tell him everything she heard, that it's okay, there's nowhere else she wants to be. But how many times has she said that, only to end up right back here? She curls closer to him instead, leans her head into his touch.

"Yeah," he lies. "Sleep, kid. It's late."


End file.
